


Two Of Us

by WickedWonder



Category: Lars and the Real Girl (2007)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-20
Updated: 2012-12-20
Packaged: 2017-11-21 16:36:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/599859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WickedWonder/pseuds/WickedWonder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You and I have memories longer than the road that stretches out ahead"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two Of Us

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pene](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pene/gifts).



> Many thanks to my beta Elf, who went above and beyond the call of duty.

When she looks back on it, there had been lots of starts and stops. Taking steps closer, then running back, a not-quite cycle that she’d bowed out on, for a while. Then, things started going forward, and sometimes would come to a halt, but little baby steps became confident strides, eventually. Everything happened eventually, and when she looks back, she’s surprised that the time that had dragged on at the time was really a blink of an eye.

***

Springtime is different this year. Most of the time, spring has to fight winter, because winter wants to hold on way too long, March, April, and sometimes May all feeling like January, cold and gross. Winter should be over after February, anyway. At least, Margo thinks so, and she feels victorious once she’s proven right and the winter coat got hung in the closet and never taken back out, except to put into storage. Other people are noticing too--the townspeople are walking around, playing in parks, and if it wasn’t for the early evenings, it would’ve felt like summer was right around the corner.

Margo takes it in, happily. She’s used to hard winters, having grown up here, and every day with short sleeves feels like an unearned gift. She eats her lunches outside, eyes rarely leaving the sky, watching clouds roll in and out. Sometimes, Lars joins her, never saying much, but looking up with her, sitting next to her, and once he pointed out a shape, grabbing her hand to guide it where he wanted her to look. Once he’d realized what he’d done, of course he let go, but he’d stayed there, occasionally looking at her. Then he had run off and she hadn’t seen him for the rest of the day, but he was back the next day, and most days after that.

They don’t really see each other outside of work for a while. The freaky weather is a siren call, and the lunches feel like hooky, a little bubble of them that Margo imagines growing solid. She tries to not think about other, about after, and for the most part it works. A couple of times, he’s mentioned Bianca in passing, like ‘Bianca always liked breezy days,’ and it takes her a while to remember that Bianca isn’t real, because she had been, for a while. Margo knew that’s a strange way to feel about it, but when she was on half the committees and always volunteering (she was more well-rounded than Margo can hope to aspire to), her presence was felt all around. So when he mentions her, Margo just nods, and it’s okay.

When fake-spring turns into real spring, Margo invites Lars to have Easter dinner with her and her parents. He knows her parents, because everyone knows everyone, but she’s not sure if they’ve ever spoken to each other.

He hesitates long enough for her to get nervous and start to rescind the invite, already regretting breaking the flow of whatever they have (their bubble), and then he says yes. He blinks as he says it, wringing his hands--but he says yes.

She nods nervously, stammers out contact information (not that he doesn’t already know where she lives), and they both end off running off after that.

The next day, though, they’re both back, at the (their) bench, gazing up, and occasionally at each other.

***

Summer is hot. Humidity is killer, and people run from building to building, finding all excuses to do whatever they need to indoors. Margo agrees in theory, but she still looks up at 11:57, and starts gathering her lunch things, preparing to walk down the couple of flights of stars and be at their bench by 12:02. She tells the people that ask that the AC is way too high for her liking, and that she needs to warm up, and if she blushes a little when she says it, so what?

“Karin wants you to come to dinner,” Lars says one day in June.

Margo forgets the lone cloud she’s been focusing on and looks Lars square in the face. He’s looking in her direction, past her, but otherwise, he could be discussing anything.

“Do you want me to come?” is what comes out of Margo’s mouth, and while that wasn’t what she meant to say at all, the slow nod that Lars gives is enough to make her smile and say yes too.

***

In the fall, there’s a fair.

It isn’t very big. There are cooking competitions and livestock shown, some rides, and lots of food. Lars comes to pick Margo up on a Saturday, and they walk through the entrance together, hands loosely linked. They look at the cows and pigs, and Margo pets one of the lambs, wool so soft that she wants to pick it up and hold it to her. She tells Lars this, and he reaches out and touches it too, swiftly. He laughs as if startled, and she laughs too.

Funnel cakes are eaten, the Ferris wheel is ridden, and Margo points to Gus and Karin and Kenneth below, and Lars sees Dagmar and waves to her. There is a pitcher toss, and Margo wins a small bear, which she gives to Lars with great ceremony. He carries it with pride until he actually sees Kenneth, and after casting her an apologetic look, gives the baby the bear. She’s so giddy that she can’t be mad that he gave away the first gift she gave him.

There are fireworks, and Mr. Sanderson sets them off with his sons. During lulls in the show they can be heard shouting instructions to each other. Margo watches them as much as she watches the rockets, and when she’s walking to the car with Lars afterward, she tells him about the signals they used, how they never got in each others’ way. He tells her about the way the colors are made, and the names of the different sparklers.

When he gets to her house, he walks her to the front door, and the little hug they share becomes an embrace, and the kiss at the end seems so inevitable that it’s not until she’s in the front door that she realizes what just happened on her doorstep.

***

November is the first time he proposes. As proposals go, it’s not half bad, in Margo’s admittedly uninformed opinion. Lars does the one knee thing, but he never looks up at her. She lets out a surprised “oh!” before shaking her head so fast that her ponytail ends lash both cheeks. He gets up, and she adds “not yet, anyway”, and he breathes out a sigh of relief mingled with dismay.

They don’t talk about it after, but Margo feels the knowledge, weighted, in the back of her thoughts of Lars. Some days, it’s a warning. Other days, most days, it is warm and comforting.

***

There is a work party on New Year’s Eve. For some reason, their company had skipped a traditional Christmas party, opting to rent out the skating rink. Margo is a confident skater, but when she asks Lars if he wanted skates, her beats her to the rental line.

It turns out that Gus and Lars, before Gus left, would play hockey. A lot of hockey, and Lars skates like the puck is still in play. Margo has to push to keep up. It feels freeing, and they start weaving in and out of their slower coworkers, playing tag, laughing until they finally come to a halt on the side, finding a free seat and carefully making their way to it.

“I’m having fun,” she tells Lars. “I love spending time with you.”

“I’m having fun, too,” Lars answers, and his pleased, embarrassed smile makes Margo smile harder.

The owners of the rink pipes through a countdown from a radio station. As the noisemakers start to sound amid the various cheers, Margo finds herself impulsively throwing her arms around Lars and kissing him soundly.

It isn’t until they separate that Margo thinks about the fact that if any of their coworkers hadn’t known about them, they’d been clued in, and that Lars hadn’t pulled away, didn’t hesitate to respond, and was in fact, giving her that smile again, the one she was beginning to think was her favorite.

Later, as they’re walking back to the car, Margo looks around, breathes the rain-smell of this unseasonably warm night, and she’s happy. She reaches for Lars’ hand. Once their fingers interlace, they look at each other, but don’t speak. Their fast steps slow to a ramble, and occasionally they swing their arms, stop and look at a window, and look up into the sky.

It takes them almost 20 minutes to walk two blocks. Margo’s surprised when the car is in sight so fast.

They dawdle a bit next to the car before they get in, still enjoying the nighttime air, and Margo is almost sad when they separate to get into the car. As they ride home, she curls slightly into Lars, like she used to ride with one of her high school boyfriends. His hands don’t leave ten and two, but he seems to lean into her also, and she feels as she used to back then--that the rest of the world didn’t exist outside the two of them.

***

By February, everyone’s pretty much given up hope of snow, which is why the foot and a half that falls within a four-hour period stops things in their tracks. People are dashing to their cars in highly inappropriate clothing as the office shuts for the day, Margo included, and she’s at home, wrapped in layers of blankets when her doorbell rings. She gets up just long enough to throw the door open, let a shivering Lars in, and slams the door before diving back into her cocoon.

“Is something wrong?” she asks. She takes one of the blankets and tosses it Lars’ way.

He wraps up before saying, “We had reservations tonight.”

“What for?” As she asks, she remembers the date. With Snowmageddon bearing down on them, Valentine’s Day had totally slipped her mind. She had made cookies and planned to leave them on Lars’ desk after lunch, and they and the card are hopefully in her cubicle. She tells Lars this, and he laughs. Apparently there’s a card and flowers awaiting her for tomorrow.

“I didn’t come for that, though,” he says, answering her unasked question. He rubs the back of his neck, and he’s not quite meeting her eyes. “I was talking to Gus, and he says that you’re not like us. Um, girls, women, aren’t like guys. They need the words.”

She nods, not quite comprehending, but trying to follow.

“So. Margo, I, love you.” It’s kind of mumbled, but he looks up at her, and it’s relieving, and unexpected, and they’re both wrapped up in blankets, and so she laughs.

“Oh Lars, I love you too.”

They do get better at saying it.

***

April is rainy. It’s less cold then the previous months, but no less gloomy, and on some days, Margo wishes for one of those sunlight boxes, just to feel some sort of light. She spends most lunches in the breakroom, sometimes with Lars, sometimes not, and while it’s nice, she misses their outdoor times, staring at the clouds. The first day the rain holds off long enough, she’s back outside. The sky isn’t clear in the least bit, and she has to sit on a plastic bag to not have a wet skirt, but when Lars comes out to join her, she regrets nothing.

***

It’s full summer when Lars proposes again.

This time, it’s during the 4th of July picnic. Everyone is here, and there are people she knows everywhere she looks. Margo’s watching Kenneth take toddling steps when Lars pulls her away and they walk. Somehow, they end up in a different area of the park, all by themselves.

Lars gives some little speech. Margo doesn’t remember the whole thing after, but she knows there are parts about love, and trust, and fear. She remembers the important part though.

This time, she answers yes.


End file.
